Forged
by Lemon Crisis
Summary: Crosshairs and Drift have been sent by Optimus to find a human female who may very well be the key to both their species' continued survival. Slight AU. Not fluffy.


The noise of the club was pure vibration. It thrummed through Crosshairs' body as he passed the bouncers. Bumblebee followed him, the intricate holoform disguising his metal body projecting a young human male dressed in jeans and a shirt, with light brown eyes and similarly-coloured hair lightly tousled back. It gave him an innocent, puppy-dog look. It suited him, as did the rougher, older male holoform Crosshairs wore. All of the autobots had created their own holoforms once Optimus had re-acquired the knowledge to transform down their matter to a still smaller form, like the allspark had. Their nanoforms. Crosshairs' features had begun to dominate his holoform almost immediately, his personality inherently being too proud to hide behind the fake shell. The other autobots were at varying levels with their holos, depending on how long they'd been using them and how strong their inner personality was.

Now that they could mingle on the fleshing's level, they were rapidly gaining a better understanding of humans that their previous perspective had inhibited. They came face to face with the good and bad of humanity at a more intimate level none of them would have thought possible a few years back. Crosshairs glanced behind him, doing a double take as he realised Bumblebee had stopped and was watching a group of dancers writhing under the cold strobe lights. Raising his optics to the ceiling, Crosshairs willed a mote of patience into his circuitry, "Bee." His voice carried over the baselines of the music, and the young mech reluctantly tore himself away, throwing glances back over his shoulder as he resumed following Crosshairs.

There was much to enjoy in the human's world, apparently. Prime had encouraged them to mingle as and when their schedules allowed. Crosshairs wasn't particularly interested, and only did so when he had to. The fleshlings for the most part seemed content to flit away their lives doing mundane things like watching TV, getting drunk or playing video games. None of that enriched their lives, taught them anything. He couldn't understand how they could be happy with an existence like that.

He started as a sultry voice reached his ears, "Hey there handsome, wanna dance?"

He turned to see a dark haired woman in a skin tight dress gazing up at Bee. She had a drink clutched in one hand and Crosshairs wondered for a moment what she'd do with it if Bee actually took her up on the offer, but the young mech just stood there awkwardly, shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot. The woman's smile wilted when no answer was forthcoming and Bee looked at Crosshairs for help.

He fought the urge to facepalm and forced his face into a more pleasant expression, crossing the short distance to stand beside Bee, "Look, lady, he doesn't talk."

When she blinked at him stupidly he sighed and elaborated, "He's a mute." He drew a hand across his throat, miming severed vocal chords.

"A mute?" She rolled the word in her mouth as if she'd never heard it before, "So he's like," She leaned forward, dropping her voice as much as the surrounding music allowed, "A bit... special?"

Amusement sparked in Crosshair's synapses and he nodded, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, "You could say that. It's best to leave him alone."

"Oh." To her credit she had the grace to look disappointed before drifting back into the crowd in the general direction of the bar.

Crosshairs clapped a hand on Bee's shoulder, still amused, "Come on, before you get all the female fleshlings after you."

Bee nodded emphatically and followed Crosshairs to the back of the club.

The bouncer was different from last night's, but quickly backed down and let them through when Crosshairs flashed the card he'd been given. The velvet rope clinked back into place behind them and they proceeded through the dark wooden door, the noise of the dance floor fading until it was just a faint thumping penetrating the concrete walls.

The corridor opened out at the other end into a small VIP lounge with a well-stocked private bar. Two human females undulated around poles in the far corners of the room, and three tables hosted various card players. Crosshairs scanned the room as he entered. Their target wasn't here. Again. He fought down the urge to punch the wall in frustration. He wasn't good with waiting. This kind of mission wasn't his style. Give him a good old-fashioned gunfight any day. But his glorious leader had asked him to find this fleshling female, and so he would, even if the waiting drove him mad. Intel said she turned up at least once a week, and they had only been at it for two nights. He approached the nearest poker table and took a seat while Bee made straight for the bar. The young mech had discovered a love for human sustenance. The nanoform's unique structure allowed the autobots to eat and drink human food, and Bee had found he particularly enjoyed alcohol. It was almost like ingesting a type of fuel - the nanoform had the ability to break organic matter down into its basic, useful elements. Crosshairs wasn't fond of the stuff himself. He preferred to play cards while he waited. A sharkish grin crossed his face as he was dealt his hand, and he scooped them off the worn red felt. The internet was a truly marvellous thing. He'd learnt how to play poker via the vast web - the information downloaded, sifted and stored ready for use in mere nano-seconds. He could calculate the exact odds at any given moment of a game. He downplayed his skills most of the time to give the humans a chance, but thoroughly enjoyed utterly destroying them every now and then. He had to get _some_ fun out it, after all. He eyed his cards and wondered, not for the first time, what Prime had in mind.

* * *

 _3 days, 6 hours and 27 minutes earlier..._

 _"It is imperative you find her." Optimus Prime's voice held a gravity that only true wisdom and leadership could bring._

 _Crosshairs and Drift shared a glance. Why was a fleshling so important? OK sure, Prime had a habit of getting himself accidentally tangled up with humans, but to actively seek one out to get involved with was... odd. The only human he'd ever done that with was the Witwicky boy._

 _Prime didn't miss the look, and sighed, "I'm sorry I cannot tell you more. But know that this female may hold the key to both our species' continued survival."_

 _Well, there wasn't really any arguing with that, as much as they both couldn't care less about humans._

 _"Roger that, boss."_

 _"As you wish, sensei."_

* * *

They had split up, covering two places she apparently liked to visit. Crosshairs had brought along Bumblebee and Drift had taken Hound as backup, though Crosshairs was starting to regret his choice of partner. The young mech was too fascinated with life at human size. It wasn't 'cute' at all, as some female at NEST had suggested, and in actual fact it was beginning to annoy the older mech. He'd chosen Bee because he'd be disarming. Unthreatening. By his very nature he was likeable. He'd planned on using that as a counter to his own slightly... gruffer personality.

So they were currently stuck stalking a downtown nightclub's VIP room, hoping to make contact with a mysterious human. NEST had given them a picture; a hasty face shot of a young woman most probably taken covertly. With their technology, they were able to scan the photo and reconstruct it digitally in 3d, storing a 68.7% accurate copy of her features in their memory banks. He ran over the image in his mind now, noting the slight asymmetrical bump around the outside of her left eye socket. It wouldn't be noticeable to the naked eye if you weren't aware it was there, but it was a clear irregularity when viewing the scan. It would make finding her easy, even with the imperfect image.

The third night they entered the VIP lounge she was there. They both spotted her at the same time, sending twin warning pulses through the weak connection the two employed. She sat at one of the poker tables, cards in her leather gloved hands. Bee made for the bar as usual, and Crosshairs took the last remaining seat on the human female's poker table. She still had her leather jacket as well as her gloves on, the heat of the back room presumably not bothering her. Crosshairs was no expert when it came to humans, but she didn't _look_ particularly interesting. Dark brown hair - almost black in the lounge lighting - pulled back into a ponytail, oval face with high cheekbones and a wide, full-lipped mouth. Fairly attractive by human standards if the internet was any indication of these things. The croupier dealt him his hand and he flicked a glance at his cards. It wasn't a good hand, but it wasn't bad either. But he didn't want to fold - he wanted to play against their target, get a feel for her. He dug into his jeans pocket, pulling out some notes.

They played three games before stopping for a break. She'd played cold, her poker face as good as his and giving nothing away. Most of the players went out on the balcony with drinks and cigarettes to take a breather. A couple, their target included, went to the bar to get fresh drinks. She stopped next to Bee, who smoothly ignored her, seemingly engrossed in nursing his newest drink. Crosshairs pulled the other side of her, keeping her between them both.

"Mercy?"

The gloved hand that had been reaching for her golden coloured drink froze, and she shot him a decidedly unfriendly look. When he didn't back down a heavy sigh escaped her parted lips, "And if I am?"

"We need to speak to you."

"We?"

Crosshairs nodded his head towards her other side and Bumblebee raised his glass in silent salute when she looked his way. She made no attempt to move from between them, instead making a noncommittal noise before picking up her glass and taking a mouthful, her gaze fixed pointedly on the wall of bottles behind the bar. Crosshairs ignored the blatant hint to leave her alone. Boss had been adamant he needed to speak to this woman, and as soon as possible. Crosshairs wasn't the most diplomatic mech in the universe, and had little patience for the intricacies of negotiating, especially when working to a deadline. He preferred to get straight to the point,

"Heard of the autobots?"

Her eyes turned to him, face tipping to the side as she considered, "Who hasn't." She said finally, voice neutral.

"Well, you're looking at one. And my boss wants to speak with you."

Her right eyebrow raised a fraction, and she looked him up and down, "Really," She said flatly, "You don't look much like a giant machine to me."

Crosshairs ignored the human's ignorance about his species and placed his hand palm-down on the bar top in front of them, watching her face as he disabled the holoform from around his arm. Her expression didn't change as the metal underneath was revealed. As he'd thought, this female was no ordinary human. Boss wouldn't want to speak with her if she was. Whoever she was, she was used to the abnormal to the extent that she didn't even blink.

She took another swig of drink, "So why does he want to talk to me?" She nodded towards the poker table, where players were beginning to filter back, "I've games to win, lots of money in it tonight. You boys want to tell me why I should miss that?"

"He didn't say."

"Sorry, not good enough." She drained her glass, then slipped from between them and started to head back to her table.

Crosshairs grit his teeth, using the last hook he had available, "NEST informed him about you." Apparently NEST had made a deal with this woman to protect her identity and leave her alone. What she had offered in return was unknown to Crosshairs, but Prime had assured him that she would probably be pissed enough to go with them if she knew NEST had outed her.

True to his leader's prediction, she stopped in her tracks, spinning on her heel to face him, "NEST?" Her voice was low, dangerous. She stalked over until she was within touching distance, "NEST ratted me out?"

Crosshairs effected a shrug, "That's all I know." And that was the truth. If this wasn't enough to get her to come along they might have to revert to old-fashioned methods. Which was actually more fun. But one look at her face and he knew he'd got her. The small female was sending out waves of anger so strong it was almost a tangible thing. Her grey eyes glinted, and he blinked as he thought he caught a glimpse of something that should be impossible. She looked away, fists clenched at her sides before he could focus his optics and check.

"I'm going to destroy those traitorous bastards." Her voice was tight, controlled. She met his eyes squarely, "When do we leave?"

Crosshairs smiled, and Bee pushed off from the bar, discarding his glass to stand poised and ready.

"Now."

* * *

 **A/N ~** This was a scene I've had stuck in my head for a while. Not really got much idea of where it goes from here, just a few unconnected snippets floating around in my head but not an overall plot. I thought I'd get it written and uploaded to see if there's any interest. If there is I'll make an effort and brainstorm it into a fic. If not? Well then it can die quietly in the corner. Lol.


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